


An inch and a lightyear

by iamnotacreative



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, The Losers Club, but also kind of not a reddie fic?, does anyone read these anyway? cause I definitely don't, everyone else is mentioned - Freeform, imma be honest, not much happens lmao, pretty specifically a reddie fic, what a way to promote my fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28946385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamnotacreative/pseuds/iamnotacreative
Summary: Eddie is exceptionally good at one thing: overthinking. But even he doesn't like it sometimes. And when he wants to stop overthinking, he goes to Richie. For some reason. Why does he go to Richie again?A day behind the curtain of Richie and Eddie's friendship.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	An inch and a lightyear

All the Losers have a specialty when Eddie has an issue.

He goes to Bill to help solve a problem, or, retroactively, make a problem worse. 

Beverly is the best at confusing him and trash talking, and she keeps up easily when he babbles nonsensically. She helps make things simple when it doesn’t seem like there’s anything simple about it.

Ben is the most positive of the group, easiest to lean on and will listen, then annoyingly does his best to help him toward the brighter side of things. 

Stanley is on the same level of video game skill as he is, so he’s his go to for that. Plus he’s the only one who’ll flat out call him on his shit.

And Mike distracts him by giving him an assignment to keep his hands busy and help him finish his chores on the farm, and occasionally overthink things while laying on the pile of hay he complains about but lies in anyway. 

But when he needs to stop thinking, Eddie goes to Richie. 

Contrary to popular belief, Richie can read a room when he wants to. Sometimes. Most of those times he just doesn’t want to. At certain times, with certain people, Richie actually considers the feelings of others. 

Eddie wears his heart on his sleeve. He never learned how to live otherwise, but he learned from Richie how to use his voice to dull its color. He never mastered it, but he does his best. But Richie knows the difference. He always somehow knows the difference when it comes to Eddie. 

So Eddie stopped trying. Not that he ever tried particularly hard with Richie.

When he ties himself into a knot overthinking his mom’s new obsession with something about stuff in the water causing tooth decay and the super special filter she just got so don’t drink water anywhere else only come home to drink water, Eddie knocks on Richie’s door.

“Eds!” Richie grins in surprise when he swings open the door. He can immediately tell from just the look on his face, and his lack of opposition to the nickname, what Eddie needs. He cocks his head to the side and grabs his hand, leading them toward his backyard.

“Who was it, Richie?” Maggie Tozier calls when Richie shuts the door behind them. Richie all but pulls him through the living room where his mother sits watching tv on the loveseat. 

“It’s just Spagh-Eds,” Richie responds easily, not stopping. 

“Eddie,” her eyebrows raise in surprise, smiling politely. It falters a little. “It’s late, won’t your mother be worried?”

Eddie, thoughts still cloudy, looks at her blankly as they pass. “She knows I’m here,” he lies. 

Maggie looks like she doesn’t believe him, she knows what Sonia Kaspbrak is like, but Richie is giving him a sloppy sideways smile that tells him he knows he’s lying and tugging him out the back door, so if there were any protests Eddie didn’t hear them. 

The door slams behind him and Richie lets go of his hand, leaving Eddie uncharacteristically lost and silent in Richie’s presence. Richie flops down into one of the lounge chairs they usually ignore for wrestling in the grass and looks up at the sky. 

“Check it Eds,” he says, not looking back to see where he is. “The rain yesterday cleared all the clouds and there’s a shit ton of stars.”

Eddie watches him blankly from his spot by the door and blinks. Then he makes his way to the lounge chair beside him. 

“Since when do you give a shit about stars?” he asks.

Richie doesn’t take his eyes off the dark sky, but watches him take a seat in his periphery.

“Since Stan showed me some guy called  _ Bill Nye the Science Guy _ and got into looking at space instead of birds. And he told me some of the constellations are named after weird ass people from stories.”

“Stan’s not looking at birds anymore?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Eds, he’s always gonna look at birds,” Richie returns, mock offended. “Now he just has stuff to look at at night too.”

“There are birds at night, Richie.”

“You think Stan Urine is gonna wander around at night looking for birds without shitting his pants first?” Richie laughs and shakes his head. “If I find out Stan’s been going around bird watching at night I’ll scare the shit out of him myself. What are friends for, amiright?”

Eddie shakes his head, only half in this conversation, but looks up at the stars anyway. He doesn’t know jack shit about stars. It doesn’t matter anyway, when Richie starts pointing out stars and naming them things he’s pretty sure he’s making up on the spot. His brain is still pumping along to the thought of his water source being restricted to the faucet in his home only. Of chemicals in the water that’ll rot his teeth and if there’s those chemicals in their water what other chemicals could there be? Who’s to say they’re not basically drinking clear greywater? What is that doing to his insides? Is that why the water tastes different at everyone’s house and at school or the movie theater? He already has so many medications and things wrong with his body, how much more can it take if it wants to live? Eddie wants to live. 

But Richie’s always been good at talking over his thoughts when he can’t stop them from raging through his mind with no consideration for any of his other thoughts or emotions. He’s pretty sure Richie just called one of the stars Nathaniel Lee Steward. But it’s fine. It’s all fine. He just has to get the biggest bottle physically possible to bring as much water with him to last him all day and then balance it on his bike or get a bask-

“Wait wait wait-” he stops Richie in the middle of his sentence. “Did you just say Beetlejuice?”

Richie looks at him in surprise, like he wasn’t expecting him to speak at all. But after a split second he grins. “You’re damn right I did.”

“Beetlejuice,” Eddie repeats. 

“Yup.”

“Like the movie?”

“Damn skippy.” Richie is grinning. “That’s the name of that star,” he points blindly at the sky. 

“Richie there’s no fuckin way they named a star the same thing as that fuckin movie.”

“I didn’t say that,” Richie defends. “Maybe they named it  _ after _ the movie.”

If there’s another thing Richie’s good at, it’s pushing Eddie’s buttons by pretending to be the dumbest human being alive when Eddie knows for a fact he has straight A’s.

“ _ After the movie?!” _ Eddie exclaims, and Richie grins because he knows he got him on a rant. “You think that the scientists, any single scientist, or whoever the fuck names stars, watched that movie and thought, hey, I’m gonna name a star after this fuckin  _ demon of the underworld?! _ ”

Richie shrugs. “I believe it.”

Eddie gapes at him. 

“I’d name a star after him. He’s badass!” Richie grins. 

“You’re unbelievable,” Eddie falls back into his chair and crosses his arms. 

“Aww Eds-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’d name a star after you too.”

Eddie’s head shoots back in Richie’s direction, his neck flushing. “Fuck off Rich.”

“Dang Eduardo, I’m tryna be nice!” Richie dramatically throws his arms up receiving an eye roll from Eddie. “Like you wouldn’t want a star named after you.”

Eddie purses his lips. It would be cool. Not that he can tell the difference between any of the shimmering things up there. “Name a constellation after me instead and maybe we can talk.”

Richie beams at him. “Well surr’, ‘imma shoer ye bes’ frien’ can sort some kah’nd of deal for this ‘ere sichee-ation,” Richie slurs slowly. 

Eddie scrunches his nose. “What voice is that supposed to be?”

“Just kind of came to me,” Richie shrugs. “I’ll figure it out.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “That’s what you say about all your characters.”

Richie gasps and dramatically clutches his chest. “Eddie my love, you wound me.”

Eddie rolls his eyes so far his vision goes black for a moment. “Beep beep, Richie.”

“I didn’t even do anything!” he protests, frowning. 

Eddie shakes his head and looks back up at the stars. Why did he ever think coming here was a good idea. Why did he come here again?

Oh right.

Richie’s frown deepens when Eddie doesn’t answer and seems to get lost in his mind again. After a moment, he decides on a new approach, and gets up from his chair and drops onto Eddie’s, who looks at him in surprise and draws his legs in closer to him as a reflex so he wouldn’t sit on them. 

“Helloooo,” Richie says in his face, knocking on his forehead.

Eddie flinches away with each hit. “Ow Richie, what the fuck?”

“Can you shut up please?” Richie says, still talking to his forehead. “I can hear you thinking from out here.”

“Will you stop fuckin hitting me?” Eddie swears, swiping his wrist and holding it away from his head on the chair. 

“Why are your thoughts so loud? Are you telekinetic?” He starts knocking on his head with his free hand and Eddie immediately grabs it and holds it down too. “Are you sending your thoughts directly into my brain? Here read my mind instead. I’m thinking about your mom-”

“Rich!” Eddie pales. “Do you always have to be so fuckin gross?”

“Only for you, Eddie-bear,” Richie winks. 

Eddie releases his wrists only to start swatting at him. Richie laughs and shields himself briefly, but his arms are longer than Eddie’s and he grabs him by the shoulders and forces his arms to stay at his sides. Eddie wiggles his arms and fingers and it reminds Richie of a crab doing its damnedest to pinch him wherever it can reach. 

“Look Eds,” Richie levels with him in a rare moment of seriousness. “I can either talk you into oblivion or you can actually contribute to the conversion and not get absorbed into whatever the fuck you’re freaking out about this time. I’ve seen you in a mood and I don’t like it.”

Eddie frowns at him. 

“Whatever it is, we can fact-check it tomorrow at the library. Or, well...” Richie pauses to think. “We can get Ben to research it and tell us all the good stuff. But it’s a problem for tomorrow. For now, hang out with me and these shiny ass stars and at least try to keep your mind off of it, okay?”

Silence falls over them as Eddie considers it. Eddie's eyes dart between each of his and Richie feels exposed. As much as he vies for his attention all the time he’s never actually expected to have it. Not like this. And it’s kind of making him nervous. 

“Okay,” Eddie says finally. 

“Okay?” 

Eddie nods.

“Good,” Richie nods back. Eddie keeps looking into his eyes and he doesn’t know what to do with himself except look back in a way that he doesn’t usually have permission to. He doesn’t let his eyes wander down but a range of emotions he doesn’t want to feel passes through him. 

Richie is looking at him with an expression that Eddie can’t decipher. Before he can object, Richie’s hand comes up and squishes his cheek. “Cute.” 

Eddie swats at it. “Cut it out Rich you ruined the moment.”

Richie stops short. “What moment? There was a moment happening?”

Eddie scowls. “No.”

“Aw Eds you’d tell me if we were having a moment wouldn’t you?” Richie pouts at him. “Here,” he shoves Eddie’s legs to the side, receiving an indignant yelp, and flops himself to squeeze into the small space left on the chair. “If I name a constellation after you, what’ll you do for me?”

Eddie shifts so that Richie isn’t leaning fully on his shoulder. “Not murder you.”

“Oh Eddie,” he delicately places his hand on his chest. “You’d do that for me?”

Eddie actually laughs at that one and shoves Richie the short distance he can go leaning over the chairs armrest. “I’d consider it.” 

“You spoil me, Eddie my love.” 

Eddie reddens at the nickname like he always does, but this time not in anger. “I do my best,” he says with a shake of his head. He readjusts them so that they can both semi-comfortably share the chair and look at the stars. “Are there any actual constellations you can see right now? Real ones?”

“How real are real?” He can feel Richie’s words vibrating on his chest from where his shoulder is leaning against him. 

“Not fuckin Beetlejuice.”

“First of all Beetlejuice is real you can ask Stan, and he’s a  _ star. _ ” 

“Whatever Rich, just show me constellations.”

“Constellations are hard, dude, you should see some of the shit in Stan’s books,” Richie says. “Most of them just look like random stars someone picked and then drew some really vague shape around it. Like it’s not like an outline or whatever it’s just a bunch of stars.”

“Why do people go crazy about them then?”

Richie shrugs. “Cause they  _ could  _ be cool?”

“Could be?”

“Okay they are cool to most people, Eds. Other people that are easier to impress.”

“Hey!”

“They’re cool in concept,” he continues as if Eddie didn’t protest. “The idea that people and their stories are connected to the stars, their impact on humanity that important, whether they were real or not. They lived their lives worthy enough to live on in the stars.”

Eddie turns to look at him. If he looks hard enough, the light of the far off moon reflects in his glasses as he looks up. He gets this feeling that there’s something Richie isn’t telling him. Something else that Richie treasures about the night sky. Richie turns to him and sees his tilted head, and flushes. 

“In concept,” he says again, looking away.

“A lot of things can be cool in concept,” Eddie tells him. 

Richie shrugs, and Eddie’s shoulder goes with it. Eddie removes his shoulder and adjusts so that it rests on the back of the chair and he has to somewhat lean toward Richie. 

“For example,” Eddie starts, poking him in the arm. “ _ You _ could be cool in concept.”

“ _ Excuse me,” _ Richie snaps back to him. “I am a founding member of the Loser’s Club, I  _ am _ cool.”

“Exactly,” Eddie retorts. “You’re a  _ founding member _ of the Loser’s Club. You’re a King Loser.”

Richie wiggles his eyebrows and Eddie realizes his mistake. “King Loser, huh?” Richie puts his thumb and forefinger to his chin, stroking it and pretending to consider it. “King Richie. I kind of like that.”

Eddie shoves him lightly. “Not what I meant and you know it.”

“That’s an act of treason!” Richie exclaims at him. “You can’t shove your king!”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah, King Trashmouth really rolls off the tongue.”

“You love this trash mouth,” Richie tells him and makes kissing motions with his lips. 

Eddie wishes he wasn’t about four inches from him when his eyes drop to Richie’s lips as they pucker in his direction. He stares at them for a split second that feels like much longer, then slaps his hand over Richie’s mouth and stares at the back of his hand instead. Richie squeaks in surprise behind his hand, but Eddie doesn’t move it. He just stares. He doesn’t process when Richie moves his arm slowly and puts his fingers to his cheek, not that he subconsciously leans into it or anything. His eyes slowly, nervously slide up to Richie’s. It isn’t until those fingers move again and pinch him lightly on the cheeks that he jerks away. 

“Fuckin’-!” Eddie yells, also removing his hand when Richie licks it. “Richie!”

“I could hear you thinking again,” Richie shrugs. 

“About something else,” Eddie grumbles. 

“Like I could tell?” he asks even though it wasn’t a question. “I know your faces I don’t know your thoughts. I’m not telekinetic like you.”

“I fuckin wish I was telekinetic so I had even the slightest idea why you do shit like that.”

Richie snorts. “You think I think about it before I do dumb shit? Wow I thought you knew me, Eddie-bear.”

Eddie pauses in his protest at the nickname. “You know what, that’s fair.”

Richie beams at him, but it fades quickly into confusion. “Wait…”

“Too late, Trashmouth,” Eddie grins, flopping back onto the chair before he can say anything. “You made your bed.” Realizing the possibility of innuendos, Eddie powers through and points up. “I wanna be that star.”

Richie follows where he points and blinks. “That’s the moon, Eds.” 

“Not that one, asshole,” Eddie sneers. “The one next to it.”

Next to the waxing moon, on the right and a little down, is a star small enough that if you weren’t looking for it, it looked like it flickered in and out of the dark sky. Richie can just barely spot it, but he thinks it fits. 

“Then I’ll be the one next to it.” Next to Eddie’s star that looks an inch away but is actually probably lightyears, is a slightly brighter, slightly larger star. 

“Which one?” Eddie asks. 

“That one,” Richie points. “The second one to the right of the moon and a little up.”

“The second star to the right,” Eddie repeats. Richie nods. “Like Peter Pan and Wendy.”

“Only if I get to be Peter Pan.”

Eddie drops his head to the side and watches Richie’s profile. He considers it for a moment. “Fine. You can be Peter Pan.”

Richie’s brow scrunches in surprise, not expecting Eddie to give in to that request, and when he turns his head to look at Eddie, he’s still looking at him. And their faces land very close to each other. Close enough that Richie feels Eddie’s breath on his face. “And you’ll be my Wendy?”

Eddie gulps and nods. Richie suddenly doesn’t know how to breathe as he watches Eddie’s eyes flicker between his. He’s wanted to kiss Eddie before. Of course he has. But he’s never been close enough to do it. Not like this. And it scares him more than he’d ever admit, because the urge to kiss him has never been this open to opportunity. His heart starts beating in his head and he’s afraid he actually might do it this time. He’s terrified, really. So in the split second that he thinks maybe Eddie’s eyes might have dropped down to his own lips, he panics.

“Big chief greet little mother, how,” he blurts in a voice that’s not his own. 

When Eddie’s lips frown in confusion they take his whole face with them. “Huh?”

_ Ah shit, _ he thinks.  _ Guess this is the path I’m taking _ . Then he puts some soul into it. 

“Oh Wendy,” he dramatically perks up and slightly away from Eddie, making his voice more pronounced. “Is that all you have to say? E’ry one else thinks I’m wonderful. ‘Specially Tiger Lily,” he finishes with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

When Eddie catches on his frown deepens slightly and he groans. Richie points behind his head and yells, “Captain Hook!” just as Eddie complains, “Richie stop ruining the moment!” 

Richie can now feel his heartbeat in his throat, but he’s committed now. “I’m adding to the moment!” he retorts. “If Captain Hook is here then the crocodile is too and I can’t have my Wendy getting gobbled up by the evil thing!”

And just like that, the moment passes. 

“The crocodile wasn’t evil, Captain Hook was the evil one!”

“He was evil too! He was chasing the main evil guy and tormenting him! How is that not evil?”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Rich, that’s how that works.”

“Yeah until he actually eats Hook and he’s still hungry and starts coming after us!”

"That's not how it-"

Richie dramatically grabs Eddie's head and hugs it to his chest as if he's protecting it as Eddie smacks at him. 

"I won't let him get you, Wendy!"

If there’s one thing Richie is good at, it’s distracting Eddie from thinking about things he doesn’t want to be thinking about. Mostly because he jumps through 15 different subjects in 15 minutes with ease, and if you don’t keep up you’re left in the dust. A lot of times the conversations are forgotten by the time they finish arguing, but when Richie calls him a week later and says, “Stan said we might be able to see Mars tomorrow if we really look,” Eddie says yes without a second thought, the memory of the night under the stars only a passing thought in the back of his mind. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna be honest. I had two thoughts and just wrote til I got to them lol. I also didn't know how to end it so this happened. Anyway. Someone message me on tumblr so I can give you a prompt I don't wanna write because I think it's funny but it involves smut which I'm not big on writing. @prexenatious
> 
> Also, btw Betelgeuse aka Beetlejuice is a real star you can ask Stan.


End file.
